


Bassline

by dvske



Series: Count the Ways [7]
Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Drums, Gen, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:50:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7194113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvske/pseuds/dvske
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On or off stage, it doesn't matter. So long as she can feel it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bassline

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by ['The Way You Said 'I Love You'](http://rhvme.tumblr.com/post/137729229293/) prompts via a lovely soul on tumblr. Prompt# 23, through a song.

She’s centered before the stage when the music starts. A spectator, for once, though a tingle of performer’s excitement still courses through her as the audience focuses on the oncoming band. Conversations fall to collective hush, motion ceases, and the lights are dimmed to fine beams that glide along the platform. The mood’s been set before a single note is played. Subdued. Controlled.

Red drinks it in.

She cranes her head high when the crowd settles and embraces those first few chords. The bassist starts off with a low, liquid tone. The electric guitar mirrors the melody in a higher, fluttering pitch. The keyboardist joins in with a synthesized beat, reverb set high.

But the drums. It’s the drums that get her.

The sound’s deep, flooding the room with arresting air. Energy rises. Bodies press close. Cheers and whoops carry overhead as the pace picks up. Everything’s amplified. Vibrating brass. The sharp knocks and rolls of the drumsticks. Each thump, each strike of the drum's pedal, a deafening pulse that seeps through skin.

She sways with the rhythm, feels herself buzzing. Mind, heart and soul. The other instruments fade. For her, it’s nothing but the drums. Nothing but that beat driving the song. The volume fills her, swells in her ears, taking on solid shape. Firm and encompassing, yet malleable enough to sink into. It’s a high she knows well, a rush that leaves her at a peak. Every time, every time.

And when she slips her eyes shut, hands raised as if in prayer and lyrics dripping from her lips in time with the singer’s voice, something inside her ignites.


End file.
